


Tales of Letting Go and Moving On

by jumpthefence



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Daddy Issues, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Peraltiago, Reconciliation, So much angst, THERE'S SO MUCH ANGST IN THIS, yeah i think that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 06:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5080912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpthefence/pseuds/jumpthefence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For most of his life he could never really see his dad to a fault for leaving him. Like sure, he would get upset that he didn’t get to show off his dad’s cool ass pilot job during Career Days at school, or that he had to rely on Cap’n Crunch as the only prominent male role model in his house, but he never hated him…just the absence of him. It was only a year ago – 11 months and 20 days, not that he’s counting – that he actually started to make peace with the fact that his dad was a jerk, that his absence wasn’t Jake’s fault, and that he’s really glad he didn’t end up being as awful as him.</p><p>And Jake was okay for those 11 months and 20 days, for the most part. Those nights where he felt a child-like longing to having some figure in his life to show him how to deal with a Mature Adult Relationship, or balancing demanding careers and personal lives, or (occasionally) how to throw a baseball, would frequent him sometimes.<br/>///<br/>Jake's dad reappears. He's confused, Amy is angry, and it's all a gigantic damn mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so just to avoid any potential confusion, the POV shifts between Jake and Amy, and this chapter is mostly focused on Amy so yeah enjoy!!!

Listen. Jake Peralta is a pretty chill dude. He’s the chilliest of all the chill dudes. He doesn’t panic when there’s a gun pointed directly at him, doesn’t get angry when a case is more difficult than usual, doesn’t get anxious when Rosa is in a particularly bad mood and is ready to beat anyone up – he gets frustrated, sure, but never angry. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s ever been severely tense and/or angry; when he was fresh out of the academy working his first case,  when he went undercover, when he poured his _romantic stylez_ feelings to Amy before said undercover mission, and that one time his mom fainted and he got a call from the hospital resulting in a looping slideshow of images of a world without her in his head.

Oh. And quite a few times involving his dad. But he doesn’t really consider them as validated  _angry_ moments, because for most of his life he could never really see his dad to a fault for leaving him. Like sure, he would get upset that he didn’t get to show off his dad’s cool ass pilot job during Career Days at school, or that he had to rely on Cap’n Crunch as the only prominent male role model in his house, but he never hated _him_ …just the absence of him. It was only a year ago – 11 months and 20 days (not that he’s counting) when he had to save his dad’s ass from Canadian police - that he actually _started_ to make peace with the fact that his dad was a jerk, that his absence wasn’t Jake’s fault, and that he’s _really_ glad he didn’t end up being as awful as him. 

And Jake was okay for those 11 months and 20 days, for the most part. Those nights where he felt a child-like longing to having _some_ figure in his life to show him how to deal with a Mature Adult Relationship to help him with Amy, or balancing demanding careers and personal lives, or (occasionally) how to throw a baseball, would frequent him sometimes.

He was learning to accept himself. Learning and trying his absolute best to rid himself of thoughts telling him that Amy deserved better, that one day she’ll realize it, one day she’ll leave him for someone else (if his dad left, what’s stopping anyone else from leaving right?). He was focusing on giving Amy his everything, and tried his absolute best to kick any negative thoughts out of his head. And it was working. He was already making so much progress and he started to actually _let go_ of some of the internalized insecurities and self-hatred that have piled up over a life where abandonment was A Very Prominent Thing.

Things were good.

Until they weren’t.

On an insanely slow Friday (like _seriously_ slow. The most exciting case he’s had was a B &E in which the perp stole various Star Wars action figures and nothing else from an apartment that had close to a thousand dollars in cash),  Jake was bored out of his mind that he started playing with the knick knacks on his desk until the last hellish hour to 5 o’clock passed. Of course he teased the hell out of Amy to try and get _some_ excitement that day, but her face was just plastered on her paperwork and she only slightly retaliated and teased back (he’s been rubbing off some of his bad habits on her since they’ve started dating. He pretends that that doesn’t make him extremely proud). His work phone rang with only 40 minutes till sign off, and he had to shake his head to make his voice _not_ sound like he’s been having a boredom stroke for the past 3 hours. He answers on the third ring.

“Detective Peralta.”

“ _Hey, Jakey!_ ” comes a stranger’s not-so-strange voice.

It takes him a second to figure it out but once he does, his heart sinks into his stomach and he lets out an involuntary sigh. He was already ready to be disappointed.

“Hey Dad,” he replies, flatly. He pretends he doesn’t notice Amy’s head shooting up, fully attentive to the conversation.

“ _How are you doing!_ ”

Jake notices the chirpy, happy tone of his voice.

“I’m doing good, how are you?” he wants to hang up, but chooses against it.

“ _I’m great son_ ,” Jake swallows, “ _Hey, so listen. I was on a plane to Montreal, but the wind was too strong and we had to land in New York. So, I thought…hey why don’t I call Jake so we can meet, huh?_ ”

“You wanna…meet?” his brain is just shutting off at this point and he’s basically forming any words that can come out. He looks up at Amy, and she has a crease between her eyebrows. She’s giving him a weird look that he can’t quite decipher.

“ _Yeah! What do you say you meet me for dinner tonight, yeah?_ ”

“Oh. You wanna meet tonight. For dinner.” He notices his own sing-song voice, the one he slips into when his discomfort with emotions takes over. He still has his Uncomfortable-with-Emotions Peralta Grin on when he sees Amy mouthing _no Jake no!_

“ _Yeah, I’m thinking at around eight at my hotel_ ,” a beat, “ _come on son, it’s been almost a year, let me talk to you! I’m buying_ ,” he pleads.

He exhales and rubs his eye with his palms. Ignoring Amy’s death stare, he replies, “Sure, dad. Eight sounds great.”

_"Alright, see you then!"_

He hangs up and all he wants to do is bury himself under a pile of Scully’s thumbtacks. He can _feel_ the confusion and conflict that are exploding inside his brain surface on his face, and he’s worked so hard this whole year just to  _try_ and eliminate them and they’ve only _just_ started to leave his head. But now they’re back because _he_ is back, and Jake is just confused and he hates everything.

When he looks up at Amy for comfort (something he’s been doing quite frequently now, it’s the closest thing he has to therapy currently) he deciphers her look; it’s anger mixed with sympathy. He doesn’t know exactly what these looks are for and he just wants to disappear.

* * *

 

On the car ride home, Jake keeps glancing in Amy’s direction to his left. She’s looking straight ahead with the best poker face he’s ever seen in his entire existence, he keeps trying to open his stupid mouth and talk to her about this, but no words come out.

He thinks she doesn’t notice, but she does. She notices and she wants him to say something or yell or have _some reaction_ but he’s just struggling. Now, she and Jake are no strangers to emotional conversations/situations. Well before they started dating, Amy knew how bad Jake was at dealing with his feelings because _Amy, they’re weird and gross and why the hell would I ever wanna deal with them when I can just ignore them? (he grins after that statement)_. But now that they’re dating – for 5 months now – she knows it’s because he’s just a very pure soul who loves with everything he has, and is very easily hurt. The fact that his dad called him is making Amy furious, yes, but not just at his dad for trying to do this, but at Jake for even _considering_ giving his dad another chance. Amy will never get over the way Jake genuinely feels like he’s not worth loving. Like if you take away all his Amazing Detective Skills, and Amazing Precinct Records, and are left with Crushing Debt, Fruit Roll Up Breakfasts, and Lack of Dentists Visits for 7 Years, you’d hate what you’re left with because it’s too big of a burden, too much work. So many times she’s wanted to just hold him and yell at him about how stupid he is for thinking that. She wanted to tell him _so many times_ about how god awful it was at the precinct during those six months of his absence. How much everyone relied on his Sex Tape Jokes, Unprofessional Shenanigans with Holt, and his need to turn everything into a competition, just to get through a day of dealing with terrible murders and kidnappings and rapes and-

But every time she considers it, she cowers away because a childhood of living with 7 brothers hasn’t made it very easy for Amy to open up. So now, she’s here wanting to tell him how wonderful he is, but instead she’s just being a passive aggressive partner ( _both in solving crime and in life, we should totally introduce ourselves during  door duty that way, Ames think about it!)_.

They make it to his place in 15 minutes. Jake shuts the door behind him after Amy walks in.

She turns, and decides to ask.

“Are you really going to dinner with him tonight?” it comes slightly more aggressive than she intended, she curses herself internally.

He shrinks slightly as he leans against the closed door.

“Yeah…,” he says, head turning down

She tries her absolute best to make the next statement come out in a casual tone, but all fails, “Are you _really_ sure that that’s a good idea?” 

He faces up and looks at her. Really looks at her. His eyes break her heart and she hates herself more than ever for bringing the Puppy Eyes back on his face, but this is a conversation they need to have, and she’s not backing away. She notices him frowning, and sighing in exasperation, then he says, “Yeah, Ames, I do. He hasn’t been a great father for a really long time, and maybe this time he’s willing to do it! I’m not going to be the asshole that denies him that chance.”

“Seriously Jake?! _You_ being the asshole? You do realize that it might be just another one of his ‘oh hey son I wanna meet you I’ve missed you and oh by the way _I need a huge fucking favor_ can you help me out? _’_ meetings-“

“Okay but what if it’s also a genuine ‘oh hey son I wanna meet you I’ve missed you’ dinner?!” he’s yelling now to get his voice heard over her strangely loud one.

“Honestly, Jake, when was the last time that ever happened? Honestly, just tell me?”

He’s staring at her from below his eyelashes, she has her arms folded and is positively fuming, and the silence following her question lingers.

“Answer me-”

“If he hurts me, I’ll deal with it like I did a million times before, and if he doesn’t, he doesn’t!" he steps forward, his hands laid out in front of him in frustration and  _great now he’s fuming too what have you done, Amy._  " _Why_ do you even care what my dad _might_ do to me so much?” 

She wants to tell him. Right there. She wants to hold his face, look him in the eyes, and just yell out with every ounce of sincerity that she has: _because I fucking love you, you idiot, okay?!_

But she doesn’t.

Instead she takes a breath. Closes her eyes for a second. Then tells him she’s going to the roof for a minute, which by now he knows really means to smoke a shame cigarette.

He flinches when she bangs the door behind her. 

* * *

Here’s the thing. Amy does love Jake. She’s known it for a while now, but she’s just too scared to tell him. Not because she’s worried he might not say it back (which she’d be okay with because she knows he needs time), or because she’s not sure (she is. She’s  _very_  sure). But because she’s never said it to anyone before, at least not while meaning it the way she means it now. She’s never been the first one to say it, and she now realizes it’s because she’s never _really_ loved anyone that way before. It’s a very big commitment, and whenever she thinks of the fact that she cares this much about _one_ person, that if that one person is upset or sad or happy or angry or frustrated or proud it can make or break her day, she gets anxious. Amy isn’t a sap or a romantic. She’s never had any relationship or friendship that distracted her from her main goal. When necessary, she could _always_ shut off her emotions to focus on what’s necessary. And for her entire adult life, what was necessary to Amy was one thing: her career. But with Jake it was _so_ different. And that scared the shit out of her. So many times she'd wished to be put on the wrong end of a pistol carried by a perp rather than see Jake getting hurt. It made her wonder and worry about her career as a cop.

So yeah. Amy Santiago was very much ( _very_ deeply) in love with Jake Peralta.

Two shame cigarettes later, she starts thinking logically about the situation. There is a very real possibility that his dad is genuinely trying to make it better with him, and it would be very unfair to Jake to deny him that opportunity. Jake has definitely improved over his problems with his dad abandoning him, but that doesn’t mean they’re gone. They’re still there, alright, and she sees it with every subtle, involuntary, _extremely_ tender way he always looks at her in surprise on the rare occasion that she _actually_ tells him how much he means to her. It never fails to break her heart, and she just can’t stomach the idea of seeing that again multiplied by a thousand should his dad disappoint him tonight. She’d already built a resentment to his dad only 4 years into her partnership with Jake. And on the days when she sees those tender looks, she’s reminded of how _wonderful_ Jake really is, how he doesn’t deserve to feel like he’s hard to love _at all_. She also gets angrier at his dad because what kind of father would do this when he has a son as incredible as the one he’s been given?

For a second, she starts getting frustrated at Jake too. He’s _wonderful._ So _wonderful_ and he owes it to himself to stop allowing the same worthless man to hurt him again and again. She knows her anger at Jake is unjustified, but she’s still heartbroken that out of _all_ the shitty people that are alive right now, he is the one who gets the childhood that he had.

So, having considered all of that, and after writing a mental pros and cons list, she decides that it’s for the best that Jake meets him tonight. He needs a repaired relationship with his father. He needs that redemption of a lost childhood.

Another shame cigarette later, Jake walks through the door of the roof. He stands in front of her at the corner and they look over. It’s just a gross alley, but they’ve become accustomed to this view. It’s their spot now.

She looks at him. He doesn’t say anything, still looking ahead.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” she starts “I know how much your dad means to you, and that wasn’t my place to say. I just don’t wanna see him hurting you again, and I know that there’s a real possibility that he won’t. You’re right, you should give him a chance. At least that way you know you’ve done your part. It was unfair of me to deny you that.“

He’s looking at her with that same tender look she was just thinking about.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I know you’re only looking out for me. And…I know that there is a real chance he’ll hurt me and I know that I’ll hate it, but I’d hate myself even more if I didn’t do this because my mind would just be filled with so many _what ifs_ and it’ll be the death of me,” he ends it with a grin. An _I’m uncomfortable with emotions_ grin.

“I know, Jake,” she holds his hands like it’s the only thing that matters, “and I hope, I genuinely hope he doesn’t disappoint you. I really do. Just…be careful, don’t go all in, and try to be objective when you’re with him. Don’t forget what he’s done to you up to this point when you meet with him, okay?”

The tender look never escapes his face when he’s leaning in to kiss her. Soft and chaste and deep and _good._

When they break apart, foreheads leaning against each other, Amy’s hands grasping his jacket, and his hands on her waist, he breathes out, “Hey will you come with me?”

She’s a little taken back, but asks “Are you sure you want me there?”

“Yeah,” he nods immediately “I think I’ll need an objective point of view, and I don’t know...w-what’s gonna happen and having you there would make me…feel okay? Unless, y’know, you uh-you don’t wanna come, which is also cool and t-totally fine,” he’s blabbering and looking anywhere but at her.

He’s nervous. She smiles and nods, “I’d love to come with you Jake, don’t worry.”

* * *

They make it to the restaurant at ten minutes past eight. Amy is being Amy and is fidgety and nervous as hell.

“Amy can you please calm down, it’s just ten minutes we’re not that late,” he says, a grin on his face that doesn’t seem to go away whenever he’s with her.

“We _are_ late, Jake! I wanna leave a good first impression on your dad, this is the first time we ever formally meet, I don’t wanna screw it up and-it’s in my nature, so lay off of me!” she ends it with a frown.

“Seriously, Ames? You wanna leave a good first impression on my shitty dad?” he’s full on laughing now.

“Hey! If this thing ends up working out, I don’t wanna start off on the wrong foot, okay? And…again…it’s in my nature so stop being an ass.”

He can’t help but feel something in his chest at how incredibly predictable and adorable she is. He mumbles something about it. Amy doesn’t hear him. He’s very grateful.

They deliver their coats and make their way through the tables. Roger Peralta is already seated at a table in the far corner of the restaurant.

Jake Peralta doesn’t get nervous. But tonight, his nerves are spiking high. He’s pretending to be calm, collected, not caring all that much, but in truth he does. His racing heart and shaky breath remind him of how he always cares so much more than he would admit to anyone (including himself) when it comes to his dad. He hates it quite a bit.

“Hey, dad!” Jake chimes in.

“Heyyyy, son!” he engulfs him in a hug, and Jake can’t be anything but stiff and rigid, “I’m so glad you came!”

After breaking apart, Jake formally introduces his Shitty Dad to the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Him and he’s cringing at the irony of it all, “Dad, this is Amy Santiago, she’s my girlfriend. And also my partner,” he adds the latter as an afterthought.

Amy gives him a knowing side glance with a smirk and a little something in her eyes. She extends her hand, formal greetings are made and they get seated. Jake inhales a good, deep breath to stop his legs from shaking.

The dinner overall is fine, they make conversation about everything and anything. They catch up, Jake talks about the interesting cases he’s worked, and his dad talks about the tiring flights he’s had. Amy is quiet next to them, only speaking when prompted by a question from either of them, but her hands never leave Jake’s under the table. Dessert comes in, and Jake is thinking that maybe this isn’t gonna be so bad after all, his dad didn’t ask him for any favors yet and he seemed to be genuinely interested in what his son had to say.

Then Amy says she has to go the bathroom. She lets go of his hand, and it’s all downhill from here.

“She’s great,” his dad says.

“Yeah, she is,” Jake nods, enthusiastically.

A couple of more minutes pass where they nonchalantly speak about whatever, then his dad says the thing that Jake was dreading the most about tonight.

“Listen, Jake I have to ask you something…”

He swallows. Then whispers a few profanities to himself. He desperately misses Amy’s comforting presence next to him.

Facing him, he says, “What’s up dad?”

“So, a couple of weeks ago I got really drunk with some friends, and I ended up driving us home even though I was wasted. Very irresponsible I know,” he chuckles and Jake wants to punch him in the jaw until it bleeds, “but…on the way home I crossed the speed limit and I got a DUI. Now, this wouldn't be a problem if it was a single occurrence, but this is my fourth one. For a pilot, 4 DUI's can lead me to losing my license. I’ve already paid the fine, but I can’t stop myself from losing the license unless it’s erased from the records. This is…where I need your help. It happened in this state in New York City, and I just…have no other option but to ask you to please help me remove it from my records before my airline finds it out.”

There’s a silence that’s thick and heavy with tension. Jake doesn’t take his eyes off of his dad, and then he smiles, bitterness and anger evident and clear as glass.

“Wow, dad. That’s really bad.”

“Yeah,” his dad relaxes slightly “So…can you hel-“

“There _was_ no flight to Montreal, was there?”

"What?"

"You told me there was a flight to Montreal, and you had to land here because of the weather. You forgot your own lie?"

“Jake, you have to understand, I needed to talk t-“

“You are _unbelievable_ dad. You really are. Here I was thinking you came back to your senses and was actually willing to fix your fuck up and repair whatever chance we have at a half decent relationship," he's surprised by how calm his tone is, considering the anger building up inside him and whatnot, "You know what? I am so stupid for even believing you could be anything other than what you really are: a selfish, miserable piece of shit who is incapable of genuinely caring about anyone but himself,” he sighs, “God I should’ve listened to Amy…”

Amy appears then, gets seated and obliviously says, “Sorry it took so long, the bathrooms are at the other end of this hotel, I mean how stupid was the architect who designed this place, right?” she laughs. That’s when she notices Jake’s tense fists on the table, a frown on his face.

“Jake…I know this is bad, but I promise you I have every intention on repairing this and fixing my mistake! I really do! You have to believe me on this one, Jake, come on.”

Taking a breath, he removes his fists from the table and looks over at Amy, “Are you ready to go?”

“Uh-I-yeah…let’s go.” She’s flustered and anxious and is shifting her eyes constantly from him to his dad.

Jake stands up and shoves his napkin aggressively onto the table, his dad calls out for one more desperate attempt, but Jake just can’t even bother to look at him, “Bye dad I hope it gets worked out. Or not. I don’t really give a shit,” he chuckles and with that, he speeds towards the exit of the hotel, Amy following closely behind.

She grabs his arms when they’ve almost made it out of the restaurant, and stops him. He looks at her and his furrowed brows begin to relax slightly.

“Hey, I’ll get my purse and our coats. You start the car, okay? I won’t be long,” she says, gently squeezing his arms and giving him the softest look she can muster. It works. He calms down a bit, and takes a breath. He wants nothing more than to get the hell out of there, and he knows that she knows that, so he agrees. He leaves, not once looking behind or slowing down, even when the ice cold wind of New York winter cuts his cheeks like glass. He only starts actively fuming once he’s slammed the car door shut and is leaning heavily on the steering wheel.

* * *

She watches as he storms out of the hotel door. Her heart is heavy and her mind is flustered trying to make sense of what just happened. She doesn’t know exactly what his dad said or did, but she knows it was bad enough that the aftermath of this was going to strain Jake – and by default her – very heavily. She asks for their coats and while the lady gets them, makes her way to the table to grab her purse.

She _swears_ she had no intention to do anything but grab her purse, and say some words of farewell to his dad (she’s still Amy Santiago, she still has holy respect to rules and manners).

“I’d hoped this would end better, sir. It was nice meeting you,” she says, not knowing what else to say.

He’s absent minded and baffled and completely distracted as he mumbles a ‘ _yeah me too´_ at her, eyes angry, shocked and fixated at the table in front of him.

Amy will later swear that she was possessed by another soul at that particular moment, but for some reason, something clicks inside her and any filters she’s ever been born with were thrown out the window.

“Sir, I’d like to say something if it’s alright with you,” he’s still absent minded when he looks at her, “and before I do, I just want you to know that these are my own words, not Jake’s, I’m speaking for myself right now.

“You should do Jake a favor, and just fuck off out of his life.”

That gets his attention.

“ _Excuse_ me?”

He’s insulted. Good.

“Think about it. It would really be the best thing for everyone. I’ve known Jake for almost a decade now, and I’ve seen him grow and change a whole lot during that time. You know what the only constant thing all those years was, the one thing he could never move past? You hurting him, making him feel like he doesn't deserve love, or that you abandoning him was somehow his fault. He’s only just _started_ learning how to move on from what you did, and then you show up and do something like this. And you know what? I’m sick _to death_ of it! I am so done with the way this man is affected because one shitty person got to be his dad!" she notices how loud her voice is now, eyes turning towards her, but for some reason she doesn't care enough to stop, "How ironic is that by the way? The worst person I’ve ever met ends up fathering the most incredible man I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing? It’s kinda funny actually when you think about it,” she laughs, sarcasm and bitterness soaking her every syllable.

She’s fuming, and rambling and can genuinely feel her blood boiling and she has no idea what’s happening to her and-

“Oh and another thing; I am _so_. _glad_ that you’ll go up to your room and be miserable and alone and I hope you can’t think of anything but the fact that you are not loved or cared for," she points an assertive finger on him, then directs it towards herself, "while I get to take Jake home and hold him and kiss him and show him how much I love him!”

Her eyes widen when she realizes that she just told Roger Peralta AKA The Worst Possible Human that she loves his son before saying it to said son.

But she doesn’t regret it.

“I love him…and I’m not the only one who does," she's calm now...and slow, "Everyone in Jake’s life loves him – except for you, obviously. He’s pure and wonderful and stupid and good and everything you’re not and I can’t be more grateful that the apple fell far from the tree, because you don’t even deserve the privilege of calling him your son,” a pause, and then, “he’s twice the man you will ever be and I will _never_ stop making sure he knows that.”

His face is flushed with horror and he looks as though he’s seen a ghost, so with that Amy just turns around and leaves, grabs their coats in a flash and runs towards their car.

She closes the car door and she must have a shocked expression on her face…or…something because Jake looks at her like she’s a lunatic and asks her what’s wrong.

“What? Nothing! Let’s go,” she cringes at that.

(At least she’s back to her normal self?)

“Oh my god, what happened?” his words are laced with amusement.

“Nothing! Drive!”

“Okay, well, I know something happened in there and I’m only driving because I wanna get the hell out of this place, but don’t you think you’re getting away with hiding whatever it is that’s making you fidgety, Santiago.”

He starts the engine and speeds the hell out of the driveway. Her stomach is getting tied into knots at what she’s done but one look at him is enough for her to know that she doesn’t regret it.

They make it to Shaw’s an hour later.

* * *

Gina, Charles and Rosa are still at the bar talking about who they would have sex with from the precinct if given the opportunity, when they arrive. Jake yells out something about how their night was terrible and that he’s here to drink his sorrow away when Amy decides to stick with water so she can at least make sure they get home in one piece.

She dismisses Gina and Rosa's questioning, concerned looks at her while Boyle enthusiastically yells with Jake.

Five minutes later, Jake has already had 4 shots of vodka, there’s a jug of beer on the table and the squad had already taken it upon themselves to distract him from whatever it is that’s bothering him so much. The conversations carry on, laughter ensues from all the parties and dominates the scene, the clinking of glasses never stops, and Amy doesn’t take her eyes off of Jake.

Soon enough, everybody else is gone and Jake hasn’t slowed down on the drinking. Amy thanks the stars that tomorrow is a Saturday and that he gets to stay in bed until 4 pm to deal with the terrible hangover he will most certainly get. It’s quiet, for the most part, between them. She’s tried talking to him, but the conversation always dies out, and she realizes he genuinely doesn’t want to think or to be alive at this particular moment. He keeps drinking, swallowing one glass after another, occasionally crying to Amy about how much he hates this.

“I hate this!”

“I know.”

“Do you think it’s my fault? Like is there something about me that just _makes_ him want to hurt me?”

“No,” she rubs her hands (which never leave him, really) down his back, heart breaking at her utter helplessness in this situation. All she can do is let him drink the pain away.

“God I just wanna _not_ be alive right now!”

“I know.”

They get kicked out at 2 a.m., after Jake starts a fight with the bartender about how rude it was that he would even _consider_ cutting him off. He cries on the car ride home, and when they get there, he sleeps fully clothed on the bed while she holds him to stop him from shaking.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for anyone who's left kudos and comments i really appreciate it! i genuinely hope you like this chapter and it doesn't disappoint. This entire chapter is from Jake's POV, by the way. Okay enjoy!!!

When he opens his eyes to the world at 12 in the afternoon, he immediately grunts as he senses the migraine that’s punching at his head. He forces himself up after a few minutes of adjusting to the agony, and then swiftly regrets the move. When his moving brain settled down enough, and he stopped feeling the room spinning, he opened his eyes to notice some Advil pills and water on his night stand. Figuring Amy must have left them there for him, he is eternally grateful for her existence as he swallows them down. He forces his way into the bathroom, stripping down from his clothes which are heavy with stains from last night's booze and mess. Once inside the shower, he rubs his skin with the scalding hot water as memories of last night came flooding back. The more he thinks about it, the more aggressively he rubs at his skin as an outlet for all the weird confusion inside his brain.

His mind is going a million miles an hour; processing what happened last night, wondering why his dad is the way that he is, wondering why  _he_  got the childhood that he had, battling absolute contrast in thoughts regarding never wanting to see his dad again, and simultaneously considering helping him. Now, don’t get him wrong: he hates his dad. He totally does. He hates the way his dad has treated him, hates his sense of entitlement to his son’s help without any prompting, hates the fact that he was stupid enough to believe his dad could actually come around and become a good guy. He has a right to hate him…right? That's what everyone around him tells him anyways, but he just can’t seem to properly hate him. Whenever he tries, there’s always that part of his heart that he’s worked so hard (and failed) to throw away reminding him of the future they _could_ have together should he decide to become good. And it’s calling very loudly right now amidst his brain’s logical counterarguments convincing him that he actually doesn’t care:

 _What will happen if he loses his license?_  Doesn’t matter.

 _Who will he turn to?_   It’s not your problem, Jake.

 _I’m his family, I should help him, that’s what family does!_   He abandoned you and your mom when you were only 7 years into the world, he’s never been family to you.

Jake rubs and rubs and rubs at his skin, until it turns hot red.

When he gets out – a whopping hour and fifteen minutes later – he finds Amy making the bed, fresh coffee mug at the dresser.

“Coffee’s cold,” he says in a light-hearted tone after taking a sip.

“Not my fault you spent a decade in the shower,” she approaches him, “How are you feeling?”

“Eh, I’ve been better,” he chuckles, but there’s no humor in his eyes.

"Headache?"

"Better. Thanks for the Advil by the way."

She purses her lips into a tiny smile, "Well, you wanna get some breakfast? I got you some muffins from the bakery this morning.”

Jake could live a hundred years, and would never find ways to appreciate Amy enough.

“Sure, breakfast in the afternoon sounds great.”

They’re both sitting on the stools at his kitchen counter, him halfway through a banana muffin, and her carefully eyeing him.

“So, what exactly happened between you and your dad? You never told me,” she says, cautiously.

“Well,” he swallows, eyes shifting from his muffin to her face, “turns out you were right. He needed a favor from me, so.”

“What did he want this time?” he notices a change in her tone from sweet to bitter, and flinches.

“He got a DUI in New York City a couple of weeks back, and he wants me to erase it from his record before his airline finds out and…takes away his license,” he doesn’t know why he’s worried of her reaction, but he is.

Her face is a mixture of disgust and sympathy and anger all at once, and he doesn’t know how.

“Oh my  _God_. Hasn’t he had enough of treating you like a convenient source of help whenever he pleases? When will he stop, holy shit," she turns, taking her coffee mug to the sink behind her, then walks around the counter and over to him. Holding his gaze with her eyes, her hands are warm and soft on his cheeks as she brings his head up to face her, fingers buried into his moist curls.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Jake. We’ll get through it together, I promise you.”

He nods. Because that’s all he can do right now. He’s thinking of a way to tell her what’s on his mind- _heart (none of this is logical, it’s from his heart)_  and how he’s actually considering helping him. But he doesn’t need to, because she notices his wandering eyes and puts two and two together, “Jake, you’re not actually considering helping him, are you?”

Her gaze is stern and fixed and dominating and angry.

“Oh my God, Jake! Come on! We talked about this!” she moves away from him, but her gaze is still there.

“I know! I know, and you’re right! I know that I don’t owe it to him, and that I deserve better, but I’m just kind of struggling right now, alright?" he starts rambling quickly, trying to get everything out before he backs down, "I mean if he loses his license what will he have? He won’t be able to work or do anything else with his life, and piloting  _is_  his life, Amy, and I’m just so torn and confused and angry at myself for considering this and letting him have this power over me and I  _wish_  with everything in my soul that I could turn it off but I can’t and I don’t know what to do right now. Okay? I’m as frustrated as you are!” he decides to make eye contact with her then, maybe pleading with his eyes will make her realize how hard this is for him.

She sighs, “You’re right, I know you can’t help it, Jake, I’m sorry for bursting at you. I’m just so pissed off at your dad right now because I am very sick of the way he treats you,” a pause, “I guess it’s normal to feel torn, but I genuinely don’t think you have any obligation to do it. Aside from the fact that he’s a shit bag father who only ever talks to you when it’s convenient for him, he got a DUI, Jake. A DUI. You’re an NYPD detective, you know how terrible drunk driving is. He could’ve killed someone, possibly even himself and the people he was driving. Revoking his DUI from his records isn’t fair to anyone, and he needs to pay for the mistake he’s done. I know you think so too.”

“Yeah, I do. But I mean he’s already paid the fine, so like it remaining on his record doesn’t really do anything except cost him his job, you know?”

“Do you really think that paying some fine is gonna stop him from doing it again? Leave him to deal with it, it’s not your problem now, Jake. I actually think that him potentially losing his job over it will make him swear off of drinking all together,” she shrugs, “And I need you to know that just because he’s some guy who had a kid, doesn’t make him a father. He didn’t raise you, so you don’t owe it to him. All he ever did was give the sperm that made you, and he’s been nothing but disappointing ever since.”

Struggling to keep a straight face, he chuckles at that last part. But one seriously hard gaze from Amy is enough to make him stern again.

He takes her words into consideration. She’s right when she says that it’s not his problem, it never has been. She’s right about the fact that his dad is a shit bag who will keep making mistakes unless he’s stopped. She’s right about all of it. And he realizes then that his inner struggle was put on a leash. She talked some sense into him, and that’s always what happens with Amy. Whatever hurricane of confusion he ever feels or experiences is miraculously reduced down to a breeze just by talking it out with her, and he doesn’t know how (or why) she does it, but the one constant that always reasserts itself into his mind is that he loves her. Aside from the fact that Die Hard is the greatest movie of all time, and that being an NYPD detective is what he’s meant to do, loving Amy is the only thing he’s sure of. He’s been sure of it for quite some time actually, he would argue that it was maybe even before they decided to _screw light and breezy_ , but if there’s one thing he’s learned from his past (failed) serious relationships, it’s this: he always loves too hard, says it too soon, freaks the girl (and boy, that one time) out, and is left heartbroken and upset.

When he and Amy were out on that one stakeout two months after their first real date, and he heard her talking about her young self growing up in a house of 7 brothers, always fighting to assert her position and demanding for respect; and how she decided she wanted to be a cop because her grandfather was her favorite person in the world; and how her favorite memories were when her parents left them with him and she got to hear about all the amazing detective work he’s done in his life, he _knew_ then that he was head over heels ( _ugh he hates how clichéd that sounds, but it’s true nevertheless, cynicism and checkered past be damned_ ) in love with her, and that he wouldn’t mind getting shot right there while seeing the sparkle she gets in her eyes when talking about what she loves. He decided right at that moment to repress it, and not screw up what they had by speaking too soon and scaring her off. That would be the worst thing for him, he realizes.

“God, I hate how you’re always right!” he says, attempting to lighten the mood

Turning her head sideways, she smirks knowingly and says, “I know you do. It’s actually a curse that I’m always right, I can’t get rid of it.”

“Okay, Santiago, come on down from that high horse before you hurt yourself.”

“But I love the view from up here!”

They laugh, and he’s thinking maybe things will be okay.

He decides to go see his dad one last time, just to clarify that he will  _not_  be helping him, and that any attempts at making contact with him will be ignored. He needs it for closure. Amy agrees, and he's left with some time in the day to think things over. He notices the confusion that's still in his soul. He  _knows_  he has to turn him down, it's what he needs to do. He hates that he has to do it, and he hates that he has to put a metaphorical brick on his trembling heart to force himself to it. And as he thinks everything over for the millionth time, he recalls the number of fights he and Amy had over his dad and the way he's treated him, remembers hurtful words that were said and apologies that had to be made, and suddenly the confusion isn't about whether or not he wants to do it, but rather about  _why_  he would ever consider helping him. 

He's had enough of his dad interfering with his life despite his obvious lack of participation in it, and he's not going to let him ruin what's to come.

Amy drives him to the hotel when it gets dark out.

“Alright, are you gonna wait for me here?” he asks her when they’ve made it to his hotel.

“Yeah…” she says, hesitantly, before adding “Hey, listen. Last night when you left the restaurant and I went to get our coats, I may or may not have spoken with your dad and said some…angry words, which I  _partially_  regret saying.”

“I knew something happened! What did you say?”

She’s about to start, but then he sees her staring at a point beyond his head, and he follows her gaze to see his dad walking out of the hotel, coat on his back, making his way towards the end of the street.

“You better go catch him before he disappears,” she says, praying he does just that.

“Guess I should.  I’ll be back in a while. You sure you don’t wanna wait at a bar or something?”

“No, I’m good," he's about to open the door when she speaks again, "Hey," she leans forward to grab him by his jacket and plants a soft kiss on his cheek followed by a reassuring smile, "Good luck."

That gives him enough courage to last him a year. He smiles back, and heads out the car.

He runs after his dad, and asks him if they could talk in private. His dad agrees and they walk back to the hotel, and into his room. Jake is surprisingly calm and collected, as he starts his carefully prepared speech.

“So, before I say anything I just wanna make something clear: I’m not gonna help you with your DUI. You drove while heavily drunk, and that’s a very irresponsible thing to do on your end. And honestly I’m not sure if removing it from your record is gonna stop you from doing it again, it hasn't stopped you the first 3 times. As an NYPD detective, i’m very uncomfortable with doing something like that, both professionally, and ethically. So, it’s your own problem to deal with now, and I genuinely hope it gets worked out, I really do.”

“Okay well, I appreciate you saying this, but you could’ve said that over the phone, there was no need for you to come here-”

“I  _didn't_  wanna say that over the phone, and I’m not done.” he surprises himself with his own assertive tone, but is impressed nonetheless. “I told you last year that you are a crappy father, and when you called me last night, I was confused and torn and didn’t know what to do. I decided to give you a shot because hey maybe you actually were trying this time? And I really hoped I was right in thinking that, dad, but I wasn’t. You just wanted my help, as always, and that really pissed me off. And I realized something today that lifted a pretty heavy weight off my chest; I’m done believing that you might change who you are, because let’s be real, you’ve always been terrible. Terrible to me, terrible to mom, terrible to everyone. You’re selfish, and misogynistic, and just a huge asshole, and I’m done having hopes on something that’s false. I gave you a chance, and you blew it, so I’m not giving you any more of those. And you know something? For the first time in forever, I actually don’t feel the need to have you in my life anymore. It took me _so_ long to get here, but I finally am, and...I’m not letting you take me back to where I used to be. I’ve already had to see mom suffering because you left us, and I have to deal with the huge aftermath of you doing that, and I’m stopping you from doing anything else to me.” He’s smiling now, feeling a sense of closure and calm taking over him, “I’m actually really glad that we’re so different, you and I, and I’m slowly letting go of any fears I have of messing my whole life up because of what you did.”

There's a long moment of silence where it's just Jake staring at his dad's hurt face. For the briefest of moments, he considers taking back some of what he said, and then-

“I’m sorry, Jake,” that catches Jake off guard.

Had he told him this a year ago, Jake would’ve been over the moon. The imaginary birds in his head would chirp, the world would become much brighter and colorful, and he’d think every single problem he'd ever have to face in his life would be solved. But that was before he realized he deserved better. Before he experienced living without the guilt of his own father leaving him. He keeps a stern face, smiling as he says, “Thank you, dad, but…that’s not gonna change anything.”

“I know, I know. But, I _am_ sorry. You know, what Annie said last ni-“

“ _Amy_. Her name is Amy.”

“Right, what Amy said last night really opened my eyes. I’m glad she loves you, son.”

He wants to tell him to stop calling him _'son',_ but chooses against it.

“I’m not sure she  _loves_  me, we’re just dating.”

“Well she told me yesterday she loves you, so I just assumed…”

To say that Jake was shocked would be an understatement. Until today, he’s still shocked that Amy likes him and is actively dating him. The fact that she loves him is blowing him away beyond his years. Jake has never been one to receive love of the same intensity as the love he gives, so he's gotten used to loving more. Loving first. That's why his mind becomes frazzled trying to come up with a reasonable explanation before his hopes and glee get too high. His dad could be lying, right? Either ways, she said she partially regrets what she told him yesterday, and that could be one of the things she regrets. Yeah. That’s what this is. It doesn’t make sense that Amy would be in love with him, because he’s  _Jake_  and she’s  _Amy_ , and she deserves so much better than him. Right?

“Well, anyways,” he shakes himself out of his trance, “I just needed to tell you that. Good luck with your life, dad, I really hope it gets worked out. Bye.”

He walks out of the room and rushes into the elevator, not thinking about anything besides what Amy might have told his dad last night. When he walks out of the hotel, the sight of her makes him pause and slow down for a second: her car is parked at the lot on the opposite side of the street and she’s leaning on the hood, legs crossed in front of her, one sneaker on top of the other, hands in her hoodie’s pockets and eyes fixated the ground.

He slowly makes his way over to her, his own hands in his jeans pockets because he doesn’t know what else to do with them.

She raises her head, “Hey! How did it go?”

“Went really well, actually, told him everything I’ve been repressing for the past year. I feel light, and…it’s nice, the closure is nice.” He can’t stop himself from studying her face, beautiful and glowing and warm.

“Oh, that’s so great Jake!” her face softens, and voice lowers “I’m really proud of you, I know how hard that must've been.”

His face has a soft smile, the one he goes to when he can’t process what’s happening inside of him. His hands are fidgeting in his pockets, and he can’t stop himself from asking her, “Hey, what did you tell him exactly last night?”

Her face falls, he thinks back to her words  _I said some angry words, which I partially regret saying_. The ‘I love you’ must have been one (or three) of those words, it has to have been.

She straightens, and looks at him.

“I may have told him…to…fuck off out of your life.”

If Jake is being honest, that is _not_ what he expected her to say at all.

“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? You serious?  _You_  telling an  _older man_  to fuck off? I've only ever heard you saying that word like five times since I met you! Were you drunk?” he leans in closer and whispers, “oh my God, Ames, were you  _high_?”

“I actually think I might have been possessed by some external soul, I don’t know honestly, I was so shocked myself,” he chuckles “but…yeah I told him that – and you know, I made sure he knew they were my words not yours, like I told him I’m speaking for myself.”

He nods, without prompting anything further.

She studies his face, and decides to keep going, “I told him that I’m sick of him hurting you, that he doesn’t deserve you as a son. Told him I’m super glad the apple fell far from the tree. I just couldn’t stand him after I saw how angry you were when we left, you know? I just – I had to say something!" he nods in understanding, "I also told him that he’s…alone and…hated, and that I’m…glad that he’s like that, while you aren’t…” her stare is cautious and careful, while his is shocked and impressed, “Are you mad?”

“No! God, no! Slightly aroused, yes, but not mad, are you kidding me?” she slaps him in the arm, but laughs nonetheless. “Seriously, Ames…thank you.”

She tries stopping herself from smiling, but it doesn’t work, “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me. I  _really_  hate your dad, Jake.” She chuckles.

He does too, nodding as he says, “Yeah, well that makes two of us.”

His eyes focus on the ground again, and there’s a moment of silence followed by Amy’s voice.

“I also told him that I love you.” He looks up, her eyes are worried and nervous, and she slowly lowers them down to her clasped hands. He braces himself for her to take the words back, but she doesn’t, instead she says, “and I meant it.”

The world stops for about ten seconds, while Jake tries to make sense of what is happening. She  _loves_  him. She loves  _him!_  Amy Santiago loves him! His brain (and heart) is going a hundred miles an hour, and the only thing that’s playing in his mind is  _AmyAmyAmyAmyAmyAm-_

“I know it’s unfair of me to say it to your dad before I say it to you, but I just couldn’t not say it. You’re incredible, Jake and I’m so glad I have you in my life. But, the one thing I’ve noticed about you is that you sell yourself short too often, and you don’t give yourself enough credit when it comes to people appreciating you. _Everyone_ appreciates you, Jake; Charles would be devastated if you weren’t his best friend, Gina cares about you like a brother because that’s what you are to her, Rosa trusts you with her life and she genuinely cares about you, I actually have proof of that; she once threatened me in the bathroom about how if I deliberately hurt you, she’ll stab me in my sleep. She even reminded me that she knows where I live,” she shudders at the memory.

“No way, she told me that too!” he chimes in, trying to stop his hands from fidgeting.

"Yeah, that sounds like Rosa."

A pause.

“ _I_  appreciate you, Jake. You’re the only person who knows how to calm me down from an anxiety attack, who manages to make me laugh when we’ve been working for 26 straight hours and all I wanna do is curl up into a ball and die. You make me grow as a person, and remind me to take a breath and not think too much all the time. And I love that. And I know you think that you have baggage, but so what? We all do! I think way too much all the time about everything, I can't accept making any mistake, and my OCD has literally ruined some relationships that I’ve had. Our baggage and the way people deal with them is what defines who deserves to be with us, Jake. Do I hate the fact that your dad makes you feel unloveable? Yes I do! But not because it’s too much work, but because I hate the idea of  _you_  feeling not good enough. I know you’re not ready to say it back, but I’m not telling you that I love you because I wanna hear it back, I’m saying it because I need  _you_  to know it.” She jabs her index finger into his chest, and continues, “You are loved, and cared for, and you are wonderful. Don’t ever forget that.”

He’s elated about the whole thing, and he can’t help the fireworks that explode inside his chest. To this day, he will never deny that he thought he was dreaming. Because here he was thinking he didn’t deserve her, that she will eventually realize it and move on, but there  _she_  was, blowing his mind away with words he never thought he needed to hear so badly.

“I love you too, Amy. Why would you think I wasn’t ready to say it back?”

“I don’t know, I just…assumed it I guess?”

He doesn't know if he should feel pride for that statement or not. It could very well be validation of just how good he is at hiding his feelings (his  _very_ intense feelings), or it could be an indication of how terrible Amy is at picking up on signals. He chooses pride, because he prefers very few things over bragging.

“Ames, I’ve known that I love you for three months now. I was holding my tongue  _so_  hard because I always say it too soon and I mess things up. And…I didn’t wanna scare you off by saying it too soon. Like honestly, I’m actually very proud of myself for holding it in until now, it’s unreal,” her chuckle is enough to make him forget what he was saying for a second, and he looks at her and all he sees is an incredible, smart, strong woman who he has the privilege of loving, and he can’t believe someone as amazing as Amy could even  _exist_  in his life let alone love him, and before he realizes what he’s doing he’s kissing her and wrapping his arms around her trying to keep her as close as humanly possible. Like if he doesn’t, she’ll slip away, and he’ll die, and the world will enter into an apocalypse and everything will be awful and terrible. He will never get tired of the way her lips feel against his, of the pattern she draws from the bottom of his hairline to his neck, of the way she clutches at his side like she’s holding on for dear life. He’ll never get tired of her, or of kissing her, or of hearing her voice, or of making her laugh, or of feeling her skin on his. Because she’s Amy, and she loves him and he loves her, and everything suddenly seems so  _right_  and  _good._

When they break away, they hold their positions for a few moments and then Amy chimes in, "Hey, you wanna eat pizza and get drunk on your couch?"

"Always."

They break apart and she makes her way to entering the car, a moment of hesitation passes Jake's mind as he contemplates whether to say it or not, but then he calls out again before he overthinks it.

"Amy."

She turns.

"You're honestly the best thing that ever happened to me."

The look of surprise on her face doesn’t pass him by, “Aside from being the second best detective in the precinct?” she attempts humor because they’re both still  _very_  uncomfortable with emotions.

“ _First_ best detective, and – no. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, period. First best detective and all.”

“There’s no such thing as first best, Jake.” she rolls her eyes, but he keeps his warm gaze on her, so she continues, “I’m really happy you think that of me, Jake, but…I need you to promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll learn to love yourself. Learn to see yourself for the amazing person that you really are. You are already loved by so many people, but none of it matters, really, if you can't love yourself. It’s gonna be hard, I know, but…we can do it, together.”

Because it’s a promise, Jake is careful before he says anything. He thinks back to how he used to be over the past few years, compares it to his current self. He thinks back to how selfish he used to be, to how many things were internalized because of his dad, to how much better he’s gotten at dealing with his emotions, to how much he’s grown to become a better person, to how much he’s begun appreciating the most important people in his life, to how much better he got at controlling his finances and eating habits and health. And he decides that it  _is_  doable. He can learn to love himself, and it may not be so hard with Amy there to help him.

“I promise.”

He keeps that promise. It’s never smooth sailing, and the struggle inside of him never totally goes away, but the more time passes, the smaller these struggles become and the better control he has of them.

That night becomes one of his most cherished memories, ever. He adds a few more events to the number of times he’s ever been genuinely nervous, all of which have resurfaced flashbacks of that night back into his thoughts. He remembers it when Amy asks him to marry her two years later, remembers her words when they're 30 minutes away from saying their vows and his nerves about how massively he can screw up this marriage and disappoint her are giving him cold feet (and racing heart and shaky hands and mumbling nonsense words), remembers them when he holds their tiny daughter ( _she's so tiny, Amy, I can't believe we made this!)_  for the very first time, remembers them when he gets kidnapped by Malliardi and his gang and was only a hair away from being killed before the Nine-Nine squad saves his ass. He remembers it, and every single time, it’s what keeps him going, and keeps him grounded, because he’s reminded that he has so much that’s worth fighting for, so much to lose.

He never makes contact with his father again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alRIGHT there it is lmao i hope that was good and didn't disappoint you and left you satisfied and warm inside because that's what these two (and the entire show tbh) ALWAYS do to me  
> anyways  
> I honestly hope the show has at least ONE episodes dealing with where Amy stands when it comes to Jake's dad bc angst with humor is my fav thing on the planet i get high on angst angst is my entire life.  
> And also, I put bisexual!Jake in there because it is canon and I screamed when I saw it.
> 
> anyways [again]  
> let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> WOW hi hope you enjoyed that! it's my first fic ever, and tbh? i'm not even a writer i don't enjoy writing but i've wanted to read a fic like this for SO long and i haven't found any, i've sent prompts but (though they were filled beautifully) the results were never what i wanted exactly. i'm v nervous about positing this bc like the writers in this fandom are amazing and so so talented, and i'm just a human bean trying to fullfil a fic that lived in my head for like 6 months now?? idk  
> anyways  
> i love the dynamic of Jake thinking Amy is too good for him, and Amy finding it absurd, and Amy hating his dad for how much hurt he brings onto him. Also, because i relate so much to the sunflower that is Jake Perlata and his sense of self-loathing/self-destructive habits, i love the idea of someone making him realize that he's actually Good (bc that happened to me quite a few times, and it's amazing tbh)  
> any comments would be appreciated, even the bad ones, i am trash for criticism!!  
> come say hi to me on tumblr! i'm tall-butt


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